


And All the King's Men

by orphan_account



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/F, ashley's left to die though, beginning set during me1 but the rest is set during me2, both ashley and kaidan survive virmire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-06 15:46:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4227609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite the odds, Ashley survives after being left to die on Virmire. And when Shepard dies, she's left to survive that too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> possible trigger warning: lots of mentions of death/dying with some flashbacks

_Thunder booms again, but it’s in the distance now, and the rain’s slowed down to a light drizzle. But no matter how silent their little house on Sirona becomes, Ashley can’t fall asleep._

_Despite the number of times she’s tried to close her eyes or even out her breathing, sleep never comes._

_Her awkward, teenage body has already become too big for the bed she shares with her three sisters. With her shirt ridden up way past comfortable and a crooked arm tucked underneath her ribcage, there’s no chance she would be able to fall asleep unless she was really desperate for the rest._

_And seeing that she’s wide awake, she’s not going to wake up her younger siblings just to shift her position._

_So instead she stares out into the darkened room, listening to the rain patter on the rooftop until it finally slows to a stop. It would have been calming in a different situation, something for drooping eyes and weary limbs, but in this one, all Ashley does is out a long, quiet sigh._

_She’s unfocused, distracted. Her mind won’t stop working and no matter how many times she shoves down those frightening ideas, they just keep coming back._

_There’s no use wondering about the maybes, she knows that, but nighttime is the perfect time for them to creep into her thoughts._

_Maybe if she hadn’t been the last one in bed she would have had a more comfortable position. Maybe if she had actually remembered to ask her father for a new bed before he left on his next tour she would be asleep right now._

_Maybe if she had been more observant, they could have caught her mother’s disease earlier. Maybe she wouldn’t be dying in some cold, sterile hospital room, and maybe Ashley wouldn’t be constantly drying her sisters’s tears, and sometimes her own, but that’s selfish to think, when their mother’s dying --_

_“Hey Ash?”  
_

_It’s dark, so she doesn’t bother wiping her eyes when she responds, trying to keep her voice as bright as possible. She’s got to be strong for her sisters. Once she breaks, it all goes to hell. “Yeah? You okay?”_

_If Sarah knows she’s been crying, the younger girl says nothing of it. Instead she asks, “Does dying hurt?”_

_Ashley frowns, and, careful not to jostle the bed too much, rolls over to look at her sister. She can barely make out the other girl’s sleeping form, but when Ashley reaches a comforting arm out, Sarah snuggles into her embrace._

_“I think it depends on how you die,” she replies finally, resting her chin on top of the other girl’s head. “Getting shot would hurt, but at least it would be quick.”  
_

_Ashley shifts, then adds quietly, “If this is about Mom. . .the doctors are taking good care of her. They’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt.”_

_The tears are back again, and this time she lets them fall, one, two, three. Her sister is holding back tears too, she thinks, by the way her head is tucked tightly into Ashley’s chest._

_It’s silent for a while, and she wonders if Sarah’s managed to fall asleep. Ashley closes her own eyes, and let’s out a shaky breath._

_“It’s not_ fair. _”_

_No. It’s not. An absent father, a dying mother, all hidden by a long line of exceptional military service? No, it wasn’t fair._

_“Of course not, Skipper,” Ashley soothes almost immediately, tightening her arms around Sarah, as if her embrace alone could protect the younger one from all the troubles in the world. “But God’ll take care of her, you’ll see. And she’ll be in a happier place, up in Heaven. No more pain, no more medicine --_ and _she’ll be able to watch over all of us better than she can from a hospital bed.”  
_

_“Now she’ll know when you don’t clean up after dinner, Sarah,” adds a now wide awake Abby from the far side of the bed. “Or when it’s your turn to make the bed, and you forget.” But despite her attempt to poke fun at the younger girl, it falls flat. Empty._

_“Thanks Abby,” Ashley replies sourly but she doesn’t really mean it, not tonight. Turning her attention back to Sarah in her arms, she whispers. “It’ll be all right. I promise.”_

_“Even_ you _can’t control everything, Ash,” Lynn cuts in quietly, sounding like she’s holding back tears as well. “How do you know?”  
_

_She doesn’t. But empty promises are the best way to heal a broken heart, at least for a little while._

_Her tears fall freely now, and she wishes that her arms were longer so she could gather them all to her. They’re all so young, so afraid, and yet they’ve gone through so much, and Ashley knows that coming days aren’t going to be easy._

_But her sisters are strong. If anyone can make it through the next few weeks and come out alive, it’s them. She just hopes that they can all make it out in one piece._

_“I just do,” she finally replies, her tone indicating hat she’s finished with this conversation. “Now let’s get some sleep, okay? Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.”  
_

_When the rain starts back up again, she doesn’t know if anyone else is asleep. But she shuts her eyes all the same, and prays for the release of the darkness._

_And then the next week, their mother dies._

_She takes her original answer back, she thinks, after that day, with a tear streaked face and empty eyes._ _Death hurts, Skipper, no matter how you die._

_Death hurts a lot._

. . . 

Laying in the rubble, in the once crystal clear water now turned black and red, admist the smoke and dirt and grime, Ashley knows she’s dead. It hurts too damn much for her to be alive. 

She’s no stranger to death. 

She died with her mother, and when she left her sisters behind to join the Alliance, and God, a part of her died on Eden Prime too. 

It’s about time she finally kicked it for good. 

She cracks open a weary eye, the other swollen shut. Taking in the rubble, the scattered remains of humans, geth, and aliens alike, she closes it just as quickly. 

This is _not_ Heaven. There are no colorful sunsets or angels or clouds, or anything she had been told would be there. 

Perhaps it’s Hell, then. After all she’s done, all she’s killed, well, she wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up here in the end. 

Though, cracking open her eye once again and sucking in a wheezing breath through battered lungs, maybe she isn’t dead. No matter how much it seems like she should have died, perhaps she’s managed to beat the odds yet again. 

Bloody miracle, that’s what it is. At this rate, Shepard’s going to have some competition in surviving the impossible.

She remembers covering Kirrahe and some of his men as they got on the Normandy. The geth had just kept coming and coming, and she had been too far away for a safe extraction. 

The Normandy had left without her, the bomb had gone off, and she had lived through it all. 

Abandoned, destroyed, survived. 

She didn’t blame Shepard, not really, but it still hurts. After all they had been through, she just dumps Ashley and leaves her behind to die.

Kaidan’s got rank, she’s got . . . what? She’s a damn good soldier, but those aren’t in high demand these days. 

Maybe they’ll come back for her. It wouldn’t be too hard, and the Normandy’s got some of the best technology in the galaxy. Just one, quick scan, and she’d be off this godforsaken planet. 

But there’s no use wondering about the maybes, especially when it’s doubtful she’s getting off of here alive. 

Ashley coughs weakly again. Stars dance before her eyes, and before she knows it, she’s hyperventilating, taking in more smoke than her damaged lungs can handle. 

If she’s not dead yet, then she’s most certainly going to die here, in the rubble of Virmire. 

_Breathe, Ash. Breathe._

But she can’t, not when she thinks of all she’s going to lose, not when going to Heaven, actually _going_ there, is going to cost her. It’s so selfish to worry about herself, she knows, but as her vision begins to get a little fuzzy, she becomes less concerned. 

She’s never going to grow up or fall in love ( _but maybe she already has, and just hasn’t realized it and at this rate, never will_ ), or have a family or even get a damn medal for all the work she’s done to fight against Saren. 

Her breath is coming quicker now and she knows she has to stop before she fades away completely, but thought of death and the eternal darkness is almost soothing now. Her eye flutters shut. 

Numbness. There’s nothing to feel in unconsciousness. 

 _I’m sorry Sarah, Lynn, Abby. I’m sorry I lied about coming back, but I’ll put in a good word with God, okay? Be nice to Dad when he comes back. He will, eventually. That I_ can _promise._

She takes one last, shuddering breath.

_Take care, Skipper. I’ll say hello to Mom for you._

Blackness.

. . .

_“Hey Jameson, found another body over here!”_

_“You see any dog tags?”  
_

_“Uh, let me get a little closer. This is fucking gross, you know that?”  
_

_“Well, someone’s got to do it.”  
_

_“You’re only saying that because you’ve got the whole Alliance military shoved up your ass. If you were in my place -- holy shit! I think this one’s still alive!”_

_“That’s not possible -- that explosion ripped everything to shreds!”  
_

_“No, I’m serious! Call for an extraction; she’s got a pulse! It’s faint, but there’s one here.”_

_“This is Private Jameson, Alliance code 57289. We’ve got a live one down here, requesting extraction. Uploading location coordinates now.”  
_

_“It’s a miracle someone survived this shit. A bloody_ miracle _.”_

. . .

_“For the living know that they will die,_

_but the dead know nothing,_

_and they have no more reward,_

_for the memory of them is forgotten.”_

_Ecclesiastes 9:5_

. . .

It’s a bright light shining into her face that wakes her up. 

Startled, her eyes fly open, and all she sees are the white, sterile hospital walls, bright lights, and she remembers being in a room just like this one nine years ago, sitting, as her mother waited to die. 

_Bright lights, sterile walls, the smell of the dying and death heavy in the air. She wonders who had been in here last. Did their family come see them off, cry for them like her own is doing now?_

_She hopes so. It’d be awful lonely to die without someone to hold your hand._

_Her sister are all gathered around the bed, but Ashley stands off to the side, not wanting to crowd her mother in her last few moments._

_“You’ll be okay girls,” her mother whispers, reaching out to touch Sarah’s crying face. “Hush now, don’t cry for me. I’ll be with God, and everything will be okay.”  
_

_She looks over Abby, Lynn, and Sarah, right to Ashley, who had been staring down at the floor, trying not to cry. “You take care of them, Ash. You keep them safe.”_

_Ashley looks up, startled, just in time to hear her mother breathe out, “I love you all.”_

_And then her head settles onto her pillow, her eyes flutter closed, and she doesn’t breathe anymore._

_The doctor comes to herd them out of the room, just for a few minutes while they take her mother away, and Ashley can’t cry, not here, while she has to be strong for her sisters --_

“You’re okay, ma’am! You’re okay!” 

Ashley takes a shuddering breath and really looks at her surroundings. The man holding her shoulders down gives her a sheepish smile as he removes his arms.

“Sorry, ma’am. I just didn’t want you to hurt yourself anymore.” 

“No, it’s -- “ she rasps, her throat dry. “It’s -- fine.” 

“Here, you look like you could use some water.” 

The water running down her throat is so refreshing she wonders if she’s actually in Heaven this time. But she’s not foolish enough to believe it. 

Besides, the nurse next to her is not her type. 

_(and what is her type? a redheaded soldier who’s probably taking down saren right now?)_

But she’ll worry about Shepard later.

“If you’re feeling up to it, I’ve got to ask you some questions. Just to make sure your memory’s still intact, ma’am.” 

She nods. “Go ahead.” 

“What’s your name?” 

“Ashley Williams.” 

“Rank in the Alliance?” 

“Gunnery Chief.” 

“Do you remember what happened? Where you were?” 

“Virmire,” she says, then pauses, coughing. “Got left behind helping the others. Guess I didn’t die like everyone expected me to.” 

She should be on the Normandy right now, sitting in their med bay. It would be hell of a lot better than this place. 

But to them, she’s nothing more than a passing grievance. A quick, sad thought, maybe a small funeral. They have bigger problems to worry about anyways. 

Funny how these things work out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because it's really unfair that you have to leave someone behind on virmire, i thought i'd write something up to change that.
> 
> and, seeing that this fandom could use some more femslash, i added that in as well.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> she's been at the hospital for too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> possible trigger warnings: mentions of death, injuries/scars, and a funeral at the end of the chapter.

It’s been almost a week days since Ashley first woke up, two months since they picked her up off of Virmire, and much too long since she’s heard from Shepard and the rest of the Normandy. 

To her, the only possible reason none of the crew has come to visit her is because they don’t know she’s awake yet. Maybe they came while she was still in a coma and are off saving the galaxy again. If that’s case, then Ashley can forgive them for not coming sooner. 

Though a message would be nice. Something simple, like,  _“Hey, Ash! Glad you’re not dead! We’re not either, just a little busy.”_

She’ll take anything she can get at this point.

 _They’re not going to come, Ash,_ a little voice tells her from the back of her mind. _They know you’re better off dead._

 _No_. They just don’t know she’s awake yet. That’s all. 

She’s getting bored sitting around in the hospital. There’s not much to do except hold out her arm for yet another test, yet another needle. Her legs are getting stronger, however, despite the limp, and sometimes she gets up by herself to walk around the room, though she still needs to use both the walls and her IV stand to stay standing up. 

Even when she insists she’s fine, the doctors frown and tell her that she’ll need to stay for just a couple more days. While they managed to heal most of her body while she had been in a coma, there were still issues that they'd like to take care of. Not to mention that she'd likely need weeks of physical therapy to walk more than a few paces without feeling the need to sit down.

When she thinks about it, their reasoning makes sense. Too bad she doesn’t really give a shit, not when she feels like she’s been trapped in here for ages. The doctors are doing this for her own good, blah blah blah. She doesn’t care.

“Can I have my omni-tool?” she asks one afternoon, picking at a loose thread on her blanket and trying not to look too interested. “I’d like to send a message to my friends.” 

The doctor in her room shares a look with her nurse. Ashley narrows her eyebrows. 

“When you’re feeling a bit better, ma’am,” her nurse assures her, looking back down at the clipboard. “And we’ve told you, we’ve already sent messages to the Normandy. It’s only been a week.” 

“Let me try. They’ll recognize my omni-tool and come quicker.” 

The nurse gives her a sad smile, and Ashley frowns. “I’ll ask about sending them another message. You just focus on getting better, okay?”

She knows her body, and although she may not be up to one hundred percent just yet, she can definitely manage a tiny note to her friends. But every time those doctors share a look whenever she questions them, her gut sinks a little farther. 

Something bad must have happened. Has Saren not been defeated yet? Did Sovereign manage to take over? Is Shepard still out there, needing the help of the wonderful and amazing soldier Ashley Williams?

It’s driving her crazy not knowing what happened to her friends, but _nobody_  will answer her damn questions. 

Even the little television situated in the corner of her room is never on, and she can’t find the remote. Apparently, she had just been unlucky, and was put in the room where the TV didn’t work. 

Yeah, right. 

So she plans her escape like she would any other, despite this one being a solo mission. She’s unsure of where she might find out some news (a big TV? someone’s omni-tool? a computer?) but there has to be something by the front desk. On her way to the bathroom earlier that morning, it’s only a hallway or two away. 

Ashley fidgets until nightfall, absently flipping through the Bible on her nightstand and playing with the IV in the back of her hand. When the last nurse of the day comes in, Ash gives her a small smile and lays back onto her pillows, telling her just how _tired_ she really is. 

A minute goes by. Then two. The clock on the wall seems like it’s going slower than usual. 

Five minutes. Ten. After fifteen, she pulls off her covers and rolls out of bed, clutching her IV stand, considering it’s the only thing that’s keeping her upwards. 

On the way to the door, she stumbles, tripping on empty air. She steadies herself with the wall and breathes heavily, but continues on. 

What she wouldn’t give for a pair of pants right now.

The linoleum tile is cool on her aching feet as she trudges along the hallway slowly, one hand on her IV and the other on the wall. Every few seconds she stops and steadies herself.

She doesn’t want to admit it, but this has been a pretty awful idea. Just because she could almost walk to the bathroom on her own didn’t mean she could make it all the way to the front of the hospital?

As she turns a corner, the glass windows lining the wall reflect her appearance back at her. For a moment, she doesn’t recognize herself and flinches away. But as her vision focuses, it’s her face in the window, scars and all. 

On one of her first days here, she had asked for a mirror. Her face felt stiff, and she couldn’t smile without it hurting. The doctors had reluctantly given her one, and at the sight of her burned and distorted features on one side of her face, she had put the mirror down quickly, not wanting to look at herself. 

But now she does. She touches her burned cheek, and the place where her eyebrows used to be, and the smoothness of her bald head. Her eyes fill with tears and her hand shakes, but she continues her examination of herself until she straightens and turns away, unable to look anymore. 

When they pulled her out of the wreckage all that time ago, her armor had been fused to her skin in some places. Her bones had been smashed and her body had been a mangled, destroyed mess. Punctured lungs, a bad concussion -- if it hadn't been for modern day medicine, there would have been no way to save her. Add radiation poisoning on top of all that, and well, she had been a mess when they brought her off Virmire. 

But alive, despite all the damage. Still alive, still surviving.

Burn scars on just about every place on her body. A permanent disfiguration of the bones in her legs. Bad lungs -- now, she could barely move without wheezing. But the doctors said it would get better. And she had been in a coma for about two months. 

God, it sounded so much better on paper. 

Blinking rapidly, she continues on. The tears don’t fall. 

The main desk isn’t far from where her room is, which is good, because she feels like she's going to fall over. And thankfully, she didn’t have to climb down any stairs to get there either. 

The woman at the front desk is distracted, taking a call. Ashley stands awkwardly in front of her and waits for her to be done, trying to look as if she’s not too winded from her short walk here. 

There’s not many people in the hospital lobby. With only two turians who sit side by side, a drell looks like they’re praying, and her, it’s pretty empty. When she makes eye contact with one of the turians, she looks away quickly. 

“Can I help you, ma’am?” 

Startled, Ashley turns back to the receptionist, who’s fake nails are tapping impatiently against the counter. 

_Tap, tap, tap._

“Is there somewhere I could see the news?” 

“That’s why you came here? To ask about the news?” 

Ashley nods carefully, taking a deep breath of air. “Yes.” 

_Tap, tap, tap._

“Well,” the woman drawls, looking as if she’s sizing Ashley up. “I can check my computer for the main headlines, if that’s all right.” 

“That’s fine.” And, after a beat, she adds with the upmost sincerity, “Thank you.” 

The only indication that the receptionist heard her is a slight raise of her eyebrows as she brings up a search. 

“Let’s see. . .oh, that’s too bad. It says here Commander Shepard’s ship went down over Alchera. Damn shame, really. . .” 

Ashley can’t heard anything except the roaring of her blood in her ears. She can see the receptionist’s lips moving, but she can’t hear what she’s saying. Her stomach plummets, her heart is beating faster than it should. 

Shepard’s _dead._ Commander fucking Shepard, the woman who’s survived more near-death incidents than Ashley can remember, is _dead._

“No,” she says desperately, leaning over the counter to try to see the search. “That’s not right -- that _can’t_ be right.” 

_Shepard’s dead._

Her knees give out, and she collapses in the middle of the hospital lobby. 

. . .

Shepard’s funeral is on a beautiful, sunny day. 

Ashley doesn’t like it. Her mother’s funeral had been dark and rainy, and Shepard’s should be too. It’s almost like the sun is mocking them, that Shepard doesn’t deserve rain and gloom. 

The hospital had let her out just for today to see Shepard's funeral. She had insisted that she didn't need a nurse to escort her, that all of her friends would be there and she would be fine, limp and all. They let her go, albeit reluctantly, with a handful of painkillers and orders to come back as soon as possible. 

Not like that would be a problem. Huerta Memorial is only an elevator's ride from the funeral site. 

Still, she shows up, scars and all, with a pair of crutches and a cheap black dress she bought an hour before the ceremony. 

Kaidan’s the first to greet her. He’s over at her side the second she walks into the clearing and pulls her into a gentle hug. “It’s so good to see you in person, Ash.” 

“Yeah,” she swallows the lump in her throat and tries to smile into his shoulder. “It’s good to see you too, Kaidan.” 

They had talked earlier that week when the doctors gave back her omni-tool. But this was much better than staring down at little screen. 

“You look. . .” Kaidan frowns, pulling away and steadying her. 

She cuts him off before he can open his mouth. “Gorgeous? Stunning? Absolutely wonderful?” 

“Yeah. You look good,” he gives a forced chuckle, then scratches the back of his neck. “Look, Ash, about Virmire -- “

“It’s fine. I’m over it.” 

( _she isn’t._ )

He continues as if she didn’t say anything. “ -- I’m sorry that you stayed back. It wasn’t right. We should have done something.” 

“Kaidan, it’s _fine._ Really. I made it back mostly intact, didn’t I?” Kaidan winces at that, and Ashley bites her tongue, but continues. “I don’t blame you, not in the slightest. It wasn’t your call. And I don’t blame her, either.” 

The empty coffin sits center stage. Shepard’s not there. She’s somewhere on Alchera. 

Left behind.

Kaidan sags, visibly relieved. Ashley gives him a small smile. “Come on, let’s go find a place to sit. I’m getting tired of standing.” 

Eventually, she finds a place to sit in the front row, next to the rest of the Normandy’s crew. Joker, Wrex, Garrus, Tali, Liara -- they’re all alive and well. All except for Shepard. 

Everyone’s happy to see her, but today isn’t a day for celebrating. They could do that later, when the wound isn't so fresh and it didn’t hurt so much.

The funeral is short and quiet, just like Shepard would have liked it. Anderson gives the eulogy, and the coffin is buried in the cemetery dedicated to military personnel and soldiers. 

That’s when Ashley cries. Silent tears that trickle down her face and a white-knuckled grip on her crutches. 

After that, everyone starts to leave the grave, but Ashley stays behind, falling to her knees in the dirt. The rest of the crew stands a respectful distance behind her, so she says her respects quickly.

“Hey, Skipper,” she murmurs, tracing the letters on the gravestone with a shaky hand. “I know you’re not here, but I can’t make it to Alchera right now. Maybe one day, though.” 

She pauses to wipe her blurry eyes and takes a rattling breath, trying to laugh, trying to smile, trying not to cry. 

“I miss you. You were the best damn commander I’ve ever had.”

She pulls herself up unsteadily, and as she looks at the grave one more time, she whispers, “Why’d you have to go somewhere I couldn’t follow? God, Skipper, you know I’d follow you _anywhere_! Why did you leave?” 

Wiping her tears angrily, she hobbles away from the grave site and away from the concerned eyes of her teammates. 

A part of Ashley dies here too. At this rate, she’ll have nothing left. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> she doesn't forget, but slowly, she begins to heal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for your comments/kudos! i appreciate it more than you know! 
> 
> the events in this chapter were inspired by Rhidia's comment in the last chapter. I had a completely different idea of where this might go, but her idea was just so much better, I decided to go with it instead. thank you so much! 
> 
> potential trigger warnings: symptoms of depression, and more talk about death

A day passes after Shepard’s funeral. Ashley visits her grave again, when the mob of people paying their respects thins. She cries.

A week passes before Ashley goes back. This time, she doesn’t have anything to say, just touches the gravestone and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.

A month passes, and Ashley hasn’t left the hospital in a few days. She can’t see the graveyard from her room, but if she could, she knows that she could pick out Shepard’s grave from all the others.

When two more weeks pass, Kaidan calls her again. This time, she answers him, figuring it’s about time she did.

“Ash!” he exclaims, his face lighting up on her omni-tool. It's obvious he didn’t expect her to pick up his call. “How have you been?”

“I’m fine.” She answers shortly, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “You?”

Kaidan rubs the back of his neck, “The Alliance has been working me hard. Haven’t had much time to do anything.”

Ah. The Alliance. She’d been medically discharged a week or so after she had woken up from her coma. All the paperwork had gone through while she had been unconscious.

Now that she’s up and mostly running, she doesn’t even know what to do with herself. She can’t re-enlist until she’s in top shape, and with a limp and dozens of other medical problems, she doesn’t see that happening anytime soon.

But what’s a Williams without a long, decorated military career? She supposes she’ll have to figure that on out on her own.

He pauses. “Look -- this probably isn’t the best thing to ask, but are you okay? You’ve been . . . alone, for the most part, since the funeral.”

“Kaidan, I’m fine. Really, I am. Joker came a few days ago to say hello and Liara visited as well.” Liara had visited a few days after Shepard’s funeral, about a month or two ago, but Kaidan didn’t need to know that. “You don’t have to worry about me, okay? I’m fine. Focus on yourself. When’s the last time you got a good night’s sleep?”

He hasn’t slept in a long time. Even with the poor image her omni-tool gives, she can see that the dark bags underneath his eyes rival her own.

“When’s the last time you did?”

Ashley frowns, and rubs her eyes. “I slept fine last night.”

Kaidan raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything else. And for that, she’s grateful.

“So, um --” and she’s made it awkward again. It’s no wonder she’s been isolating herself; she can’t bear to lose anymore friends due to her clumsy words. “This is going to sound rude, but why’d you call?”

“I’m worried about you, Ash,” he replies, biting his lip. “All us are. You’ve barely left your room, and when you do, it’s to visit Shepard.”

_You know Shepard’s not there. You left her back on Alchera._

He continues, “It’s been hard for everyone, but you especially. God, I can’t even imagine being in your place right now, but you’re one of the strongest people I know and I hate seeing you like this. Isolating yourself.”

Suddenly defensive, Ashley fires back, “I’m not ‘isolating myself’. I see plenty of doctors and nurses every day.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

She deflates, sagging in her bed. “Look, Kaidan, I . . . I can’t. Everything reminds me of her. The ship, the crew, even the goddamn Alliance.”

“We’re friends, Ashley,” he replies, giving her a soft smile. “Remember that, okay?

“I know,” she lets out a breath of air and runs a shaky hand over the peach fuzz on her head. “I know.”

It’s quiet for a few moments, but the silence is nice. Peaceful. Ashley doesn’t look at the screen until Kaidan talks again.

“Why don’t I come by the hospital sometime this week? I’ll bring coffee.”

“Yeah,” she replies softly, giving him a genuine smile. “I’d like that.” Then, she teases, “I’ll tell the nurse to let you up this time too.”

He laughs, and she does too, but adds in a softer voice, “Sorry about all those times I turned you away.” It wasn’t fair, not when you were just trying to help.

Waving off her apology with a smile, he says, “See you in a day or so.”

Ashley nods, and the video call blinks off. For a moment, she sits there, staring down at her hands, then sighs and goes along with her day. Same routine, same movements, same doctors.

Except today is little different. There’s a smile on her face today, a real, true smile that isn’t forced or sad. And Ashley realizes just how much she’s missed her friends.

. . .

Kaidan comes for coffee two days later. They laugh and talk as if nothing has changed, and she appreciates that. They don’t talk about Shepard or the Normandy. Instead, she shows Kaidan some of the crappy shows she’s found on the hospital TV, which mysteriously started working a couple days ago. He lends her a couple of poetry books which he thought she’d find interesting.

When he leaves, her gut drops. Immediately, Ashley wonders why she’s having fun when Shepard’s dead.

But isolating herself from her friends and family isn’t what Shepard would have wanted. So she ignores it.

Shepard may be dead, but Ashley’s still alive.

Over the next few weeks, she reaches out to those she originally pushed away. She gets together with her sisters, has tea with Liara, and manages to persuade Garrus to have a shooting contest with her. (He wins. But that’s only because every time she picks up her sniper, her hands shake. Once she gets better, she’ll destroy him.)

Little by little, she heals. The hospital discharges her, her hair starts to grow back, and she’s getting used to the constant aches and pains of her injuries. Her life isn’t perfect, no, but it’s so much better than how it used to be weeks prior.

She has a little apartment on the Citadel. It’s not too far from the hospital, so if she needs to, she can go back. It’s small, but it’s easier to walk around less space than more.

Kaidan still checks up on her every once in a while. In return, she does the same. He’s been with her since Eden Prime, and out of all the SR1′s crew mates, she’s closest with him. He makes sure she’s socializing and that none of her injuries hurt, and she makes sure he’s getting enough sleep.

She hasn’t forgotten about Shepard. But a year after her death, it gets easier.

Her life now almost seems. . .normal.

. . .

It’s a bright and sunny afternoon. She’d pulled back the curtains earlier that morning to let the sun into her apartment. With so much light, Ashley couldn’t help but go through her day with a smile on her face.

She decides to watch a cooking show that she managed to get hooked on from her time in the hospital when her omni-tool rings. She’s not too surprised -- Kaidan had promised to call today, after all, but she frowns when she doesn’t recognize the number.

She lets it ring, slightly annoyed that it interrupted her show.

The unknown number calls again. Unsettled, she lets that one go as well and wonders who the hell is so insistent on talking to her.

When her omni-tool doesn’t ring for a couple minutes, she lets herself relax, focusing on the cooking show. The asari chef is making something that looks like the asari equivalent of sushi.

Her omni-tool rings again. This time, she answers it, figuring that if someone wants to talk to her this desperately, she might as well let them.

A woman pops up on the screen in front of her. While the picture is blurry, Ashley can vaguely make out black hair, pale skin, and pursed lips.

“I’m looking for Ashley Williams,” the woman says shortly, crossing her arms.

“That’s me,” Ashley confirms warily, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

“Hmm,” the woman leans in closer, as if to get a better look at her. Ashley leans back, and is about two seconds away from closing the video call when the woman muses finally, “You look awful.”

“Yeah, well, being almost blown up will do that do you.”

“I suppose that it does.”

Ashley frowns. “Is there is a reason you called, or did you just want to comment on my appearance?”

The woman leans back in her chair, folding her arms. “My name is Miranda Lawson. My boss and I believe you will be an asset to in our current. . .project.”

“How about before you decide that I’m already part of this ‘project’, you tell me about it first?”

“I’m afraid that’s classified, Ms. Williams.”

Ashley fights the urge to shut off her omni-tool there and then. But Miranda’s gotten her attention, and against her better judgement, she’s curious.

“I work for a pro-human organization called Cerberus,” Miranda continues smoothly. “In exchange for your cooperation, we can help you.”

Ashley snorts. “Cerberus? We ran into you back on Binthu. Still a bunch of murderers, or has that changed in the past few months?” When Miranda flinches slightly, Ashley gives a small smile.

Even after all these months of medical discharge, she’s still got a little bit of fight left in her.

“And,” Ashley adds evenly, “I’m not going to help an organization that’s massacred hundreds of aliens for the sake of humanity.” She might have, in the past, but she’s changed now. Pro-human doesn’t have to mean anti-alien. And while it might have taken her a little too long to learn that, she knows it now. That’s what matters, right?

Though that doesn’t mean she’s not wary of other species. Just more. . . _accepting_. It’s progress.

“Cerberus has changed since the incident on Binthu,” she says it so plainly that Ashley almost believes her. “But that’s not why we’re talking. Cerberus can help you, Ms. Williams. Cerberus can _fix_ you.”

“ _Fix_ me?” Ashley narrows her brows. “Thank you, but I’m not fucking _broken_. And if that’s all you have to say, then -- “

But she is broken. Broken, shattered beyond repair. A burden. And while she knows it, no one else needs to bring it up.

Miranda holds up a hand. “I apologize, Ms. Williams -- “

“ _Ashley_ ,” she spits out. “It’s _Ashley_. Not Ms. Williams.”

“Ashley, then. Please excuse my choice of words. What I mean simply is that Cerberus can speed up your healing with cybernetics in exchange for your help. In a few months, you’ll be the soldier you once were.”

“You’re telling me that _Cerberus_ has better medical technology than one of the best hospitals in the galaxy?”

“I am.”

Now Ashley leans back in her chair. If this is true, then she can join the Alliance again, after whatever project Cerberus had for her. No more limp, no more aches and pains, no more difficulty breathing -- it all seemed too good to be true.

“What if I accept?” Ashley says finally, not looking at the camera. “What happens then?”

Miranda smiles. She’s won, and she knows it. “Cerberus will be in touch. Eventually, after you’ve gotten your implants, you will help us in return.”

“What can you tell me about this project? I won’t do anything illegal and I’m not going to kill people for Cerberus or something.”

“I assure you, Project Lazarus is nothing of that sort. We just need someone of your capabilities to make sure it goes some of the transitions go more smoothly.”

And while Ashley still didn’t like the sound of that, she hesitates before saying, “But you’ll help me?”

“Of course. A deal’s a deal. You help us, and we’ll help you,” Miranda replies, folding her hands into her lap.

Ashley sighs, and looks down at her hands. “I’ll be seeing a lot of you, then?”

“Yes,” the other woman answers. “It’s been a pleasure speaking with you today. Expect more calls in the future. Oh, and Ashley,” Miranda adds, “Try to pick them up a little earlier. I don’t like waiting.”

Her screen shuts off, and Ashley’s left wondering what the hell she just got herself into.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nowhere to run in the middle of a cerberus ship.

Waiting at the docking bay, Ashley shifts on the bench she’s sitting on, trying to ignore her sweating palms. This isn’t the first time where she’s questioned whether or not this is a good idea, but she stands firm despite her anxiety. She made a promise to Miranda that she would be here, and she’s not going to break that promise. 

Besides, Cerberus is doing her a _favor_ \-- which is something she never thought they’d stoop so low to do. It’s a situation she’s going to take advantage of while she can, even though she still has no idea what they want in return. 

After the initial call, Miranda had contacted Ashley a few more times over the past months. The calls were brief, and Ashley couldn’t get anymore information out of the woman other than what she wanted to give. 

The Lazarus Project? Ashley still has no idea what the hell that is. And what kind of “transitions” would she be helping with? The only thing she knows for sure is that if Cerberus is building some sort of weapon to destroy the galaxy, she will _not_ be helping out with that, cybernetics or not.

She’d go down fighting to help her friends. It’s happened once before, and regardless of the outcome, she’s not afraid to do it again. 

Is the healing of her body worth potentially helping a very dangerous organization destroy all alien life, including risking the lives of some of her friends and former crew mates? She’s not sure yet. 

Over the last couple months, she’s been getting used to walking about with a limp. It’s not ideal, sure, but it’s just how life is now. Her scars don’t worry her nearly as much as they used too, and it’s almost getting easy to ignore the stares of alarmed passerby’s. 

Almost. 

But what she wouldn’t give for full use of her leg again and to wake up every morning without feeling aches deep in her bones and to be able to walk more than a couple feet without feeling winded and to run and fight for the Alliance again. 

Cerberus is offering her all of that. 

So is it selfish of her to think of herself instead of the potential consequences of this deal? Maybe a little bit. But just because she’s accepted, doesn’t mean she’s going to let Cerberus _own_ her. No, she’ll help with the Lazarus Project, and then she’s done. For good. 

She had told her friends she needed a little bit of a vacation for a few weeks. Maybe hit up some of the spas Joker had said would help with the aches, maybe visit her family. They all understood that, especially after Virmire, and some had offered to come with her, but she had respectfully declined. 

All except Kaidan. 

She knew he didn’t buy her bullshit lines about spas and healing, and when she comes back (if she comes back) miraculously better, he won’t believe her bullshit then either. But she knows that he won’t understand how it is to wake up every morning and wish for things to be how they used to be. He doesn’t know what it feels like to be a burden or useless or _anything_. 

Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko. Biotic, soldier, useful -- and _not_ left behind on Virmire.

So she doesn’t tell him. At least, not yet. When everything’s better, she will eventually. After all he’s done for her, she owes him that. 

Ashley pulls her hat a little tighter over her head. It’s an old, ratty Alliance military cap that does a fine job of hiding her scars and showing where she truly stands. 

Shepard wouldn’t have wanted her to work with Cerberus. What the hell is she doing? 

Shooting another glance at the clock, Ashley groans, putting her head in her hands. Ten minutes past the agreed pickup time. For someone as punctual as Miranda, this is disconcerting. All of her calls had been exactly on time, to the minute.

Ashley stands, wobbling until she can grab her crutches. She leans heavily on them, sending another wary look at the docking bay. Miranda’s still not here. 

Well, two can play that game. And it turns out that Ashley doesn’t like waiting much either. 

Grabbing her backpack off the bench (Miranda had said most things would be provided, but Ashley sure as hell isn’t going to use a Cerberus toothbrush), she turns to go. 

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out already.” 

Ashley’s head whips around, and as carefully as she can manage with two crutches, she turns to face Miranda. Her heart races and she can’t hide a grimace. 

“You’re late,” she responds instead. “I waited.” 

“Yes, well,” Miranda waves her off. “I’m here now, aren’t I?” 

Ashley rolls her eyes. The other woman continues briskly, “We had a bit of a problem with security, but I can assure you that I was in Citadel space at the correct time.” 

“Fat lot of good that did,” she mutters in response, limping towards Miranda. “So -- where’s our ride?” 

“It’s right behind me.” 

“Huh.” She sizes up the sky car through narrowed eyes. “I thought Cerberus would have a bigger budget. Can’t afford an actual ship? Spend all the money on cybernetics?” 

“Please,” Miranda says, rolling her eyes in turn and climbing into the passenger seat. “We couldn’t just dock a _Cerberus_ ship in an _Alliance_ docking bay.” 

She motions for Ashley to get in. Ashley frowns, but throws her bag into the back seat. Some ride.

She manages to climb in with some difficulty and shuts the door behind her. Her leg is at an awkward position out in front of her, and she doesn’t hide her wince when the sky car starts to move. “Right. Where to, then?” 

Miranda leans back in her chair and crosses her arms, just like Ashley has seen her do so many times on her omni-tool. “To the actual ship.”

So there’s no backing out now. She hopes that Shepard’s not rolling around in her grave down on Alchera right now. 

Ashley Williams, coming from a long line of Alliance soldiers, cooperating with Cerberus? No, she’s not sure she believes it either. She should just shoot these people right out of the sky and save the day. Maybe then she’d get her medal. 

Too bad she didn’t have the bright idea to bring a gun with her. A hairbrush is really not as effective. 

Instead of making awkward conversation with Miranda, she looks out the tinted window of the sky car. The Citadel zooms past in an alarming speed, and for a second, she worries that she’ll never see it again. 

But if there’s anyone that could make it out of a Cerberus base in the middle of nowhere and make it back alive, it’s her. 

( _and shepard, probably. but shepard’s not here, is she, skipper? it’s just you, all by yourself, all alone._ )

Soon enough they’re out of Citadel space. The unnecessarily huge Cerberus ship looms over their tiny shuttle. Ashley never really thought the Normandy to be beautiful like Shepard did, after all, it was just a ship, but the SR1 would look like a gem against this ugly thing. The bigger the better, though, right?

_God._  

“Ah, there it is,” Miranda says, sounding pleased. “Home sweet home, at least, for the next week or two.” 

Ashley blanches. “That long?”

“Give or take,” she says offhandedly as the sky car approaches the ship. “Don’t sound too surprised. Why would we put a base in the middle of populated space?” 

“Gee, I really _don’t_ know.” 

Miranda ignores her but it’s probably for the best, considering that they’re about to spend the next two weeks together on a ship. 

The shuttle pulls into the ship’s hangar and the door pops open. The decor inside the ship really isn’t much better. Sleek, metallic, _futuristic --_ looks like something out of an old Earth sci-fi film she’d watch back home on Sirona. 

Miranda practically jumps out of the shuttle with grace that Ashley envies, especially as she clumsily makes her way out too. Once she’s managed to get her backpack on and her crutches ready, Miranda’s a good ten feet in front of her and doesn’t look like she’s going to slow down. 

Putting a hand up to her earpiece, Miranda says, “We’re here. Ready to leave whenever you are.” 

“Slow down a bit, will you? If you haven’t noticed, I’m on _crutches_.”

Miranda turns. Ashley wonders if the other woman forgot she’s even here. But she waits to Ashley to catch up all the same, and when they start walking again, it’s at a considerably slower pace. 

“Welcome to the  _Thanatus._ It’s one of the best ships Cerberus has to offer. I’m sure you’ll find it to your liking.” 

“I’m sure,” she says, not sounding all that sure. She’s wary of Cerberus, even if they’ve treated her with nothing but kindness so far. She still hasn’t forgotten all the times they tried to kill her in the past, and she has a quite few bullet scars to remind her. 

They walk into an elevator, and Ashley’s only a _little_ disappointed it doesn’t play any cheesy elevator music. Just the SR1, then.

It stops at what Ashley can only imagine is the flight deck. Miranda stops her when she gets out of the elevator. “I’m afraid I have some things that need tending to. Mr. Taylor here,” she nods to a man who snaps to attention, “will give you a tour of the ship and escort you to your rooms.” 

Without another word, Miranda walks off, her heels clicking on the metal floor. Ashley turns to Mr. Taylor. 

“You can call me Jacob,” he offers. 

“I’m Ashley.” 

“Yeah, I know,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck a bit awkwardly. “I mean, we all do.” 

She gives a nervous chuckle of her own. “I suppose you all would. Project Lazarus seems like a big deal.” 

“Oh, it’s not just that. You traveled with Commander Shepard -- _the_ Commander Shepard. You survived a goddamn explosion; you’re like a living _legend_. A hero.” 

Well, that’s something she hasn’t heard in a while. Standing up a little straighter on her crutches, she decides that she likes Jacob. They’ll get along just fine. 

“I’m not a _legend_ ,” she says, pretty sure he wouldn’t be saying that if he knew half of what happened. “But I _have_ survived a lot of tough shit.” 

He laughs again, and motions for her to follow him through the flight deck. He keeps a slow pace, and Ashley’s grateful she didn’t have to ask him to. “This is where all the navigation happens. We’ve got a lot of people keeping this ship up in the air,” he sends her a look over his shoulder, “but you probably know all this, huh? The _Normandy_ was _impressive_.”

“Never came up to the flight deck much,” she admits. “I mostly stayed below deck back on the SR1.” 

Jacob lets out a breath. “Shame what happened to it. I heard it was a good ship. And to Shepard.” He adds the last part quickly, almost in afterthought. 

“Yeah,” she says, not liking the strange way he’s acting. “Yeah, it was too bad.” That’s putting it lightly. 

Her stomach growls, saving her from anymore awkward conversation. Giving him a sheepish smile, she asks, “Mind going to the mess hall real quick?” 

He seems grateful for the change in topics as well. “Of course. Come on.” 

A quick elevator ride leads them to the third deck and even Ashley has to accept that while the food is bad, it’s better than it was on the _Normandy_. At least she won’t starve during her time on the _Thanatus_.

The rest of the tour is uneventful. While the _Thanatus_ is supposed to have some of the best technology in the galaxy, Ashley is largely unimpressed. Maybe she’s a bit spoiled. But she doesn’t tell Jacob that. He’s been nice to her, and she could definitely use a friend. 

Her quarters, however, are extremely comfortable. While they’re not large, they’re private, and there’s a bed in the middle that’s calling her name. The bathroom is right down the hall, and she figures that if she wakes up early enough, she’ll be able to beat the crowd to take a shower. 

She balances her crutches against the nightstand and practically falls into her bed. It sinks with her weight and she lets out a pleased sigh, letting her eyes drift closed. 

She had missed the hum of the engines while she had been staying at the Citadel. For a while, it had been hard to fall asleep when it was so quiet. But this? After spending so much time on land, this is like coming home, Cerberus ship or not.

Her gut lurches at the thought. Cerberus, her _home_? God, no. If anything, it’s the opposite. Enemy territory. The lion’s den. It’s _wrong_. She feels like she’s betraying every single Alliance soldier just by being here and not blowing the whole place skyward. 

But she’s not Alliance anymore. And maybe never would be again, if not for this.

So she’ll let them keep their little secrets. But she doesn’t trust them, not one bit. And it wouldn’t be much like her if she didn’t do some snooping either. 

Not now, though. She doesn’t even bother to get undressed and under the covers before her eyes flutter closed once again. Now she just needs to sleep. 

Spying can wait until the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all again for your kudos/comments! i appreciate them so much!


End file.
